A Christmasy Story, Sort Of
by Aneriangel
Summary: Can Vegeta get a job without having to wear stockings? Of course not. Where's the humor in that? Written to keep you entertained through the holidays and while 'Eligible Marchioness' is being finished. Happy Kwanukkamas!
1. With Regards

**A/N**: I do not care if the ages are not right, I tried. I tried okay? I tried so hard! There are a crap-ton of discrepancies out there. Oh, and happy holidays!

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own DBZ, GT, or Christmas.

* * *

><p>A pile of envelopes were stacked haphazardly on the kitchen counter. Taking off her white lab coat and draping it on a stool, Bulma Brief began to go through them, one by one.<p>

"Christmas card, Christmas card, bill, Christmas card, another credit card," she mumbled.

Then she stopped, went back a few envelopes, and slowly eyed the one with the formal type-font. It had been years since she had received a paper bill. Besides, she had paid her expenses for the month. How had this one slipped past her accountant?

Bulma used her sharp pink fingernail to rip open the back of the envelope. Her eyes grew in astonishment at what she was reading.

"Reminder notice," she read aloud. "Mrs. Brief, this is to remind you that your account, in the amount of 776,635.96 yen is overdue. Please note that if this amount is not paid before December 26th, a late fee of 18,000 yen will be assessed and your account will be reassigned to a debt recovery agency. Thank-you for assisting us in this matter, Sun Regard."

Bulma was baffled. She had never been in default for any payment in her life, much less for some company with a ridiculous name. Just what were they accusing her of buying anyway? It was winter for Kame's sake! She certainly hadn't stocked up on suntan lotion.

There was a folded paper behind the notice that provided an answer. She had apparently paid for diamond-encrusted, gold-framed sunglasses with ivory temples.

She was reading the letter again when her son, Trunks, entered the kitchen. He went straight toward the refrigerator without acknowledging her presence.

Trying hard to keep her temper, Bulma closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Trunks? Sweetheart?"

The teenager grunted but didn't remove his head from the fridge.

"Did you happen to purchase a pair of sunglasses without telling me? Maybe as an early Christmas present this year?"

"Nope," he said with his mouth full. He stood up and took a swig out a carton. "I don't wear shades anyway, mom."

Bulma believed him, but the response puzzled her. "Well, the only other person around here is your sister and she's in kindergarten. I doubt she went and bought a pair of expensive sunglasses on the Internet-"

At that very moment Vegeta walked into the kitchen, his boots tracking dirt onto the floor. He strutted over to the fridge where Trunks was standing.

"Out of the way boy," he ordered gruffly, pushing his son to his left. His head in the fridge he exclaimed, "Who drank all of my orange juice?"

Trunks hurriedly wiped the stain from his upper lip, but something else had caught Bulma's attention. She stood up and tried to collect herself.

"VEGETA!"

The sudden noise must've startled her husband because he hit his head on the freezer door he had opened. Holding onto his forehead, Vegeta scowled.

"What is it now, woman?"

How had she not noticed it before? There he was, in a black tank and baggy gray sweats wearing a pair of golden sunglasses as though he were some sort of god or worse, a celebrity.

"Give me the glasses."

He gave her an incredulous look.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Go get your own."

"I said, give me the damn sunglasses," repeated Bulma, losing her patience. "I can't _believe_ you!"

"What's your problem?" he asked her, backing up a little when she stepped toward him, her eyes flashing. "You're insane!"

"My _problem_," Bulma said through clenched teeth, waving the invoice in Vegeta's face, "is that you bought a pair of sunglasses that cost as much as a car!"

Using agility she knew Vegeta didn't think she had, Bulma snatched the glasses off of his face and put them behind her back. He lunged for them but she whipped around so that she was against a counter.

"Give them back, woman!"

"If you want these stupid glasses back you're going to have to fork over some cash, buddy!" she exclaimed. "Pay up or these are going to charity!"

Vegeta's left eye was twitching nervously and a vein had appeared on his forehead. His temperament the last couple of years had been more or less calm, but Bulma knew she was pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

She also didn't care very much.

"Hand them over," he said in a low voice, his breathing steadier than before.

She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "Looks like I've got me a brand new pair of sunglasses. Hey Trunks, how do I look?"

The glasses were on her face now and for a moment, Bulma could see why Vegeta wanted them back so badly. The lenses were creamily tinted, washing all of her surroundings in light sepia. The frames were warming her face. She wondered if there was a heating mechanism inside…

"The-they're nice," stammered Trunks, backing out of the kitchen with his hands in the air. "I'm uh, I'm gonna go, alright?"

He bolted.

"He's gone," Vegeta said with a snarl. "So you can end your paltry display of dominance. Give them to me."

"Pay for them."

It was entirely possible that Vegeta had never been asked to pay for anything in his life, because his eyes widened and his jaw slackened at her repeated suggestions. While he was incapacitated by surprise, Bulma launched an attack.

"What?" she asked. "Haven't you ever exchanged money for goods before? Because let me tell you, that's the only way you're getting these sunglasses back! Thanks to you I have to give Sun Regard an outlandish amount of money!"

"Don't be preposterous!" Vegeta said angrily. "I refuse!"

It was at this statement that Bulma began to question whether or not she should have given Vegeta access to her credit cards at all. It was obvious the man was used to getting everything he asked for. And it had never been a problem seeing as how Vegeta never wanted for much, but this was getting ridiculous. This arrogant Saiyan was irking her to no end, but at least she was keeping a level head about it.

"HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT I WOULD JUST PAY ALL OF YOUR BILLS, NO QUESTIONS ASKED! I ALREADY PAY FOR EVERYTHING AROUND HERE! I AM _NOT_ PAYING FOR THESE UGLY GLASSES TOO!"

"Those glasses are not ugly!" he shouted at her.

"That's not the point!"

"What _is_ the point?" Vegeta shot back.

"The point is… the point…" Bulma struggled to find an adequate response. "The point is that I want you to pay me back! Get a job!"

He was looking at her like she had sprouted an extra head. Perhaps she had; she had just suggested that her royal pain-in-the-ass spouse get a job.

"I am Vegeta," he began slowly, both of his fists clenched at his side, "the Prince of all-"

"Saiyans," she finished for him, tired of his charade. She feigned a yawn and leaned an elbow on the counter. "Tell me something I don't know, alright?"

"You can't tell me what to do."

Bulma arched an eyebrow. Having spent nearly two decades with the man, she was pretty sure she could. Of course, trying to outwit Vegeta would require finesse. Challenging him with displays of aggression wouldn't work. He had too much pride.

"Fine, whatever," she said, removing the glasses and setting them in front of her. "If you don't know how to work, I understand. I'm sure you weren't allowed to get your fingers dirty on your home planet either."

Vegeta unclenched his fists. For a moment Bulma was disappointed in his inability after all of these years to recognize when someone was using reverse psychology. Injuring his pride in order to get her way was not a foreign concept.

"Let's face it, Vegeta," said Bulma, handing him the glittering glasses and using her free hand to cover her mouth as she laughed. "You're not exactly the working type."

He didn't take the sunglasses. Instead he curled his lip and narrowed his brown eyes to slits. "And what type am I?"

"The freeloading type."

Bulma began to walk away but he grabbed her arm before she could move one foot in front of the other. He had kept his temper so far. She had to hand it to him.

"I know what you're doing, woman," he growled. "But I intend to win this battle."

Bulma batted her eyes.

"What battle? You're going to actually look for a job? And hand over money? To me?"

He scowled.

"You're on."

* * *

><p>Damn those blasted glasses! Perusing the woman's treasured laptop out of boredom, he had mistakenly clicked on a pop-up advertisement. There he had seen the sunglasses and they had been fit for a king! It had taken no time at all to enter the woman's billing information and in a few short moments, the order had been processed.<p>

Vegeta spread out the 'West City Chronicle' on the large dining room table and growled. Why had he let her make a fool of him? Imagine, a member of the Saiyan royal family actually searching for manual labor!

"Bah!"

The stupid things he would do to prove himself to her. He had never even had to run his own bathwater until he had moved with that… that woman!

"That was my first mistake," he grumbled, pulling out the classified section and staring at it intensely.

He combed through the 'help wanted' ads fairly quickly. There were plenty of jobs available, but none of them sounded appealing and they all sounded as though they paid miserably. Then suddenly, a posting caught his eye.

_Want to take charge?_ _Want to show a client just who's boss? Do you have leadership skills? Call our hotline now! Accepting both female and male applicants for our most dominant position yet!_

There was a number listed and Vegeta circled the ad with a red marker. He squinted. It seemed too good to be true. Was it a joke? Either way, he was going to gloat about it to the woman.

Standing up from the table, Vegeta made his way into the kitchen where she had been moments earlier. She was not in the room. Instead, Kakarot was there, staring at his reflection in the kitchen sink.

"What are you doing here?" he asked rudely.

"Oh, hey Vegeta! I didn't hear you come in!" Goku grinned and followed Vegeta over to the island countertop, taking a seat next to him. "Bulma said she had something for me to give Chi-Chi."

Vegeta grunted and scooted away from the overly cheerful Saiyan.

"What's that?" asked the latter, pointing toward the newspaper Vegeta had placed in front of him.

"Haven't you seen a newspaper before?"

Goku edged his chair over a bit more, making a loud scraping sound against the tile. Vegeta's skin began to itch, the way it always did when someone infiltrated his personal space.

"_What do you want_?" Vegeta asked with gritted teeth.

Goku grinned again. "Calm down, Vegeta. I guess you're still looking for a job then, huh?"

Vegeta faced him sharply. "Who told you that?"

"Bulma," the taller Saiyan answered casually. He looked at the ad that Vegeta had circled and put a long finger on a bolded word. "What's a… dom… a dominatrix?"

Vegeta looked down and shrugged. "How should I know?"

goku blinked. "Well how can you be one if you don't know what it is?"

Glaring, Vegeta answered, "It requires someone who can take charge, Kakarot. I can handle that."

The sliding glass door that connected the Brief's kitchen with the back patio opened up and his son, Trunks and a miniature Goku, walked inside sweaty and panting. They headed toward the pantry and immediately began to inhale the contents inside. Vegeta hardly took notice of them as he was mentally gloating about having found a job.

"Guys!" exclaimed Goku, giving Vegeta a pat on the back. "Vegeta found a job!"

Why did everyone insist on giving him that same look of wild bewilderment?

The click-clack of heels alerted the men to the presence of his mate. Her hair was swept in a messy bun, the sunglasses adorning her face. Vegeta swallowed, struggling to remain calm. She handed Goku a slip of paper.

"Tell Chi-Chi I said thanks for the recipe. The cake came out wonderful!"

"That's what you think," Vegeta muttered, staring at his paper.

"I'll let her know," Goku said, standing next to Vegeta and grabbing his paper. "And it looks like you were wrong about old Vegeta here! He already found a job!"

Vegeta smirked at Bulma's apparent surprise.

"Really? Is that true, Vegeta?"

"Yeah!" Kakarot cut in before he could answer. "He's going to be a dominatrix!"

The Coke that Trunks had been chugging flew out of his mouth. He began to choke.

"What's the matter with you, boy?" inquired Vegeta.

"V-Vegeta," Bulma stuttered, but if she was trying not to laugh she was tremendously unsuccessful.

Vegeta was infuriated! He had taken the time to find a job, and now that idiot woman was laughing at him. And Trunks… he was still choking while Kakarot's son pounded him on the back.

"You're going to b-be a dominatrix?" Bulma asked through fits of laughter, her cheeks red.

"Isn't that what Kakarot said?" answered Vegeta with a glare. "Stop laughing, woman!"

"You c-c-can't be a d-dominatrix!" she replied, buckling over onto a counter and howling with mirth. "I'm afraid y-you won't w-want the job!"

"And just why not?" Vegeta asked angrily, holding the paper tightly in his hand. "I am highly qualified for the position!"

His son burst out laughing.

"That's it!" Bulma cried, holding a hand over her mouth. "Both of you guys, out!"

"What's a dominatrix?" whispered Goten as he was led from the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Chi-Chi shined the last fork and placed it into an open drawer. Beside her Goku stood gazing out of the window above the sink. To an outsider it may have seemed as though he were helping, and perhaps he was. When Goku wasn't touching anything or crying about how sharp kitchen knives were, he was helping.<p>

"Where's Goten?" she asked him, taking a quick glance out of the window.

Normally her youngest son made it in time for dinner, but he was late tonight. She had tried reaching him on his cell phone, but hadn't been able to get through.

"He's with Trunks, training," answered Goku wistfully, "I saw them there at Bulma's."

He paused and then his face lit up. "That reminds me! Did I tell you that Vegeta's looking for a job?"

The cup Chi-Chi had been scrubbing crashed back into the sink. Startled, she turned to Goku who hadn't seemed to notice that Hell had frozen over.

"I'm sorry, honey. What did you say?"

"Vegeta's getting a job," he repeated. "Yeah, he was looking in the paper. He was going to be a dominatrix but Bulma talked him out of it."

There was a silence.

"Well I think it's about time that man does _something_ other than train," Chi-Chi said, trying not to think about what her husband had said. "Poor Bulma. That's a lot to put up with."

She plunged her wrinkly hands into the warm, soapy water again. She was halfway through washing a plate before it hit her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed loudly, turning to face her startled husband. "I put up with that!"

Chi-Chi tossed the fork back into the sink and stared at Goku. He was covered in dirt and grass stains and his boots had tracked mud over the floor. She blew a wisp of black hair from her face, trying to steady her breathing.

"Babe?"

"Listen here," Chi-Chi said, folding her arms across her chest and splattering the two of them with water in the process. "I don't think Bulma's too far off! The only thing that you do around here is eat, fight and watch television! You're almost worse than Goten!"

"But I can't help but eat! And I train so I can protect the Earth!"

Sheesh, the same excuse every time?

"You and Vegeta are exactly alike, Goku!" Chi-Chi stated, turning back to the dishwater. "If we hadn't finally paid off this house, we'd be sleeping in the streets! No thanks to _you_."

"Chi-Chi-"

"-It's settled then," the woman said with a 'harrumph' as she turned up her nose. "You'll be finding a job as well."

She sniffed the air.

"And go take a shower while you're at it!"

* * *

><p>The television from the living room had been tuned in to the weather channel for the past hour and half.<p>

"It's December 12th and the forecast is looking mighty cold for the rest of the week. Today we'll only see a high of thirty degrees with lows in the mid-twenties. Bundle up out there, folks!"

"Gohan, please make sure Pan is wearing everything I laid out."

"I'm already on it, honey!"

The oldest son of Goku was already in the process of tightening the pink, fuzzy hat on his daughter's head as she sat still on the couch. She smiled up at him with large, dark eyes. Gohan wasn't fooled by her pleasant demeanor. He had been down this road many times before.

"Now Panny," he said in a gentle voice, kneeling so that he was face-to-face with the preschooler, "don't take off any of these clothes. It's very cold outside today. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay, daddy."

Skeptical, Gohan grabbed a scarf and began to wrap it around her large puffy coat, trying to avoid her furry hood. It was a bit much, but he wasn't going to argue with Videl when it came to Pan's body temperature. He had been down _that_ road before too.

"Are you guys ready?"

Videl stood in the archway, dressed in a black pantsuit and carrying a large purse. Her hair was in the process of growing out again and it reached just past her ears.

"Look at my little business woman!" Gohan exclaimed with a smile, standing up. "Somebody's excited about their first day of work!"

His wife arched an eyebrow and looked over at their daughter, who was struggling to move off of the sofa, her movements restricted by the giant snowsuit she had been forced into.

"Help me!" Pan cried, waving her arms. "Daddy help me!"

Gohan grabbed her before she rolled off of the couch. It was a funny sight, really, but it became less funny once they had all made it to the car. While Videl started the engine, Gohan clumsily attempted to strap Pan into her booster seat. By the time he had gotten the belt across the girl's lap and clasped, the car ride was over. After all, his mother lived right next door.

"This…. Is….choking me!" Pan yelled, grabbing her scarf and trying to take it off.

"Stop that!" scolded Videl. She turned to Gohan who was half in the backseat, trying to pry open the seatbelt fastener that had been lost in the folds of Pan's snowsuit.

"Um, honey? I'm going to be late."

With one final push, Gohan's thumb pressed the button and the seatbelt came flying off. Pan took advantage of her newfound freedom to leap from the car, tearing her hat from her head. He scrambled after her, waving to Videl who had already begun to back out of the driveway.

"Be good for daddy!" she called out as she disappeared.

By the time Gohan caught up to the child, it was obvious she had no intention of being good for anyone. His mother opened the front door to let them inside and gasped; Pan's snowsuit trailed from one leg revealing her dress and tights.

"NANA!"

Admitting defeat, Gohan let his mother scoop Pan into her arms and he followed them both inside. He felt happier upon entering; his parents' home always smelled like what he imagined Christmas would smell like if it had a scent and it was warm. There was a large Christmas tree near the window in the living room and boxes of ornaments on the floor. Obviously his mother had been trying to put up decorations.

"Why are you decorating by yourself?" he asked his mother who was snuggling Pan in his arms in the hall. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he's in the kitchen. Don't worry," she said, her face turning hard. "He's a little busy right now but he'll be in to help soon enough. In the meantime… how would you like to help grandma sort all of these bulbs?"

"Yay!" shouted Pan, running over to the boxes of décor.

Gohan cocked his head toward the kitchen where he could smell something baking in the oven. He was sure his mother was making gingerbread cookies. He felt his stomach flutter. No one could make cookies like his mom!

When he entered the kitchen however, he was momentarily distracted. Both his father and his father's childhood friend, Krillin, were sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. They looked up when they saw him, but neither seemed too happy.

"What's got you two down?" asked Gohan, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it on a chair. He sat next to his father and looked down at the paper.

"Your mother's making me look for a job," answered his father, pouting.

"Well that's not so bad," Gohan said with a smile. "Jobs are a good thing, you know."

"Yeah, well try finding a job that your dad can do," said Krillin, chewing the end of a pen. "All we've seen are ads for people with job experience already. You're lucky, Gohan."

"To be a college professor?" asked Gohan, thinking of his large classes and hectic schedule. "I'm just lucky we're all out on vacation soon. The work is draining, especially during finals."

He gave his dad a once-over, puzzled. Goku was wearing his orange gi and boots.

"Is mom letting you train today?" he asked.

Krillin let out a peal of laughter but Goku remained somber.

"I thought if I found something she might not mind it so much," replied his father. "I have to find a job by next week or no more free meals."

Gohan seriously doubted his mother would refuse to cook, and he said so.

"I heard Bulma's making Vegeta do the same thing. Maybe the two of you can work together?"

Krillin let out another loud laugh. "I don't know why all of your wives are going crazy," he said as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm a lucky, lucky man."

* * *

><p>If he had a time machine, he would go back to the day he had been born and destroy himself. He might even destroy Earth if he had enough time before he was blotted out of existence.<p>

"Stop that, Kakarot!" he shouted.

The taller man, who had been twirling on the sidewalk trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue, looked hurt.

"_Someone's _grouchy this morning," he mumbled.

Vegeta scowled and continued along the busy sidewalk. Early morning West City with its flashing Christmas lights and buildings lightly dusted in snow would make a decent postcard. But if one more pedestrian bumped into him, Vegeta was going to make it a crime scene.

It was even worse that he was being accompanied by that giant idiot, but when Kakarot had suggested the two of them pair up to find a job, he hadn't been able to refuse. They had beaten Majin Buu together. Finding employment should not have been difficult.

"This is kind of fun," said Goku. "It smells like chocolate out here."

"Shut up," ordered Vegeta.

This was far from fun and now he was hungry.

"Wait a minute," Goku said, stopping in place and causing someone to run into the back of him. "They're hiring!"

Vegeta followed Kakarot's gaze to a brick building with a large glass window.

"Glamor Grooming," the latter read slowly. "Hmm. What do you think? Should we go in?"

Perhaps he could go back even further in time and stop his father from procreating at all. No mercy killing necessary.

"I'll lead the way!" exclaimed Son Goku, taking off in the direction of the store's front door.

His feet woefully followed behind and Vegeta began to wonder just how much of his pride he was willing to sacrifice in order to prove a point. He should have planted the glasses in his son's room.

A silver bell tinkled when the two men entered the building and warm air blasted in their face. A portly woman with curly red hair waved to them from behind a large, oak counter. She greeted them but Vegeta was too busy trying to discover why he heard barking.

_This is obviously some sort of pet store_, he surmised, glancing around at the aisles of pet supplies, _but where are the animals?_

Turning back toward Kakarot and the worker, Vegeta heard only the end of their conversation.

"Well you two obviously aren't from around here!" the woman said with a smile. "We don't need applications. We just do the interviews right here in the store! My husband Igor and I are the sole owners of the property!"

Vegeta noticed Kakarot trying to catch his eye and he frowned, shaking his head.

"Sure! We'll do the interview now if that's okay with you, Mrs. Katon," Goku said with a grin. "We're free!"

"Well," Mrs. Katon said with a look at the two of them, "what are your names?"

"Goku!"

His jaw trembling with a mighty effort, the prince forced out, "Vegeta."

"Okay, interview's over! Both of you can start tomorrow morning at seven!"

The store owner clapped her hands excitedly. "Pay's not too bad either."

"What exactly does that-," Vegeta began, but he was interrupted.

"-We'll take it," said Kakarot, shaking her hand. "Thank you very much."

Once the two had left the store, Goku turned to Vegeta.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, huh?"

Vegeta didn't answer. Instead he powered up and took off into the air, not caring that he had done so in sight of hundreds of onlookers. He should have been satisfied that he had been hired, but he wasn't.

He wasn't sure how and he damn sure wasn't sure when, but he was going to win. And that blasted woman was going to pay.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So the first chapter is a little short, but only because I want to get some feedback. If you've been following 'Eligible Marchioness' [my B/V baby as of now] then what I really want I guess, is for you to get used to a different Vegeta. Having been a fan of GT (haters be hatin'), it was really evident that he had undergone a huge transformation in character that allowed him to have/want relationships with his "friends". Don't worry, there's a lot of old Vegeta in here. If any of these guys start to sound a little OOC, don't be afraid to let me know. I appreciate your thoughts. Next chapter up REALLY soon because I finished this a long time ago and I'm just editing! Thanks!


	2. Complements of the Joker

**A/N: **My house is freezing and turning up the thermostat will result in a ridiculous electricity bill. But it is my cross to carry, and mine alone. That is all.

**DISCLAIMER****: **I wish I owned a heater.

* * *

><p>The covers were bunched around his neck, forming a shield for his lower body against the morning chill that had settled in the room. Vegeta was in no hurry to leave the warmth of fortress and drowsily he buried his face in the woman's neck, her soft snores lulling him back to sleep.<p>

No sooner had he closed his eyes did the violent scream of an alarm clock shock him from his reverie. His heart pounding Vegeta reached over and slammed his fist down hard on the plastic object. It flew over the floor in pieces.

Now he had no choice to but to get out of the bed; being around when the woman discovered her precious clock in bits would be a poor choice on his part. His other option however, which was to meet Kakarot in front of their new job, was hardly filling him with delight.

By the time Vegeta had gotten dressed and was standing in front of the blasted pet store, he was moments away from ceding defeat. He could hardly care less about those sunglasses when he was about to sacrifice his dignity.

"This is going to be great, Vegeta" Goku said from the sidewalk as he walked closer to the front of the store. "I'm really glad we'll be working together!"

Vegeta didn't respond. Instead he shoved open the door with his hand. He was immediately hit with a blast of warm air.

"You must be the help."

For a moment Vegeta was certain that Nappa had returned from the dead; a tall man with no hair and a strong build stood in the middle of an aisle carrying a bag of bird seed.

_No, not Nappa, _he thought irritably. _Nappa wouldn't be caught dead in this place._

"Dear, no one likes being called that," chastised Mrs. Katon, patting her husband's back. She smiled at the two Saiyans. "Why don't you guys follow my husband to the back? There's a lot of work to do back there."

Silently, Vegeta followed the store owner past a set of double doors and into a large square room. He wrinkled his nose at the stench. Dozens of filthy cages littered the floor and he was certain they had something to do with the smell.

"Something died in here," he said crudely, tipping a cage with one of his boots. Small, dark pebbles spilled onto the floor.

Mr. Katon tossed both he and Kakarot pairs of thick, brown gloves.

"Cleaning out the cages is your first job. We have a lot of pets coming in today."

After the giant man had disappeared behind the doors, Goku looked around with his faced screwed up.

"This place is disgusting! How can people bring their pets here?"

Vegeta leaned against a wall and crossed his arms against his chest.

"How should I know?" he asked with a scowl. He closed his eyes.

He heard Kakarot rummaging around the room, lifting cages and knocking over various items. Vegeta remained motionless, wondering just how long it would take the other Saiyan to finish. Unless they were being paid by the hour, he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"It's really not so bad, Vegeta," Goku called out to him. "We could do a lot worse."

Vegeta doubted that but remained silent. He was far more focused on familiarizing his sensitive nose to the repugnant odors surrounding him. It was going to be a long wait as far as he could tell.

"Hey, do you hear that?"

Vegeta opened his eyes and turned his head toward the main doors. Yes, he detected a faint nose from the storefront but that was to be expected. He and Kakarot weren't alone and the place was located on a busy street.

Goku put down a cage and tiptoed to one of the doors, glancing out of its glossy square window. He frowned.

"I can't tell where it's coming from but I'm pretty sure it's a dog."

"What a surprise," Vegeta muttered, rolling his eyes.

"When we first got here this place was empty," said Goku, pressing his nose against the plastic window. "What if it's a puppy?"

Vegeta cocked his head toward the younger Saiyan and grimaced. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well I've always kind of wanted a dog," was the wistful response. "Chi-Chi says they're too much trouble. I guess she's right."

Vegeta stood straight and walked toward Kakarot and the windowed door. He could not see much, but he could tell that customers were milling around inside of the shop. He growled and stepped away from the window. He had no desire to interact with humans today.

He took a leaning stance against the wall once again.

"Get away from that door, Kakarot," he ordered. "They might see you."

Goku didn't seem to understand. Instead he smashed his nose into the window and waved his hands. A moment later, the door flew open and a stunned Kakarot had fallen backward, clutching his stinging nose. Mr. Katon gave him a sideways glance and then put his hands on his hips.

"Both of you, come here. We have a customer."

* * *

><p>Still holding his throbbing nose in one hand, Goku followed Mr. Katon past the double doors and into the main room. There were several men and women walking through brightly lit aisles, but one in particular caught his eye.<p>

She was short and portly with a golden beehive of hair sprouting from her head. A tiny circular glass was stuck in her left eye and she wore a scowl that rivaled Vegeta's. A snapping white poodle in her arms mirrored her sentiment.

"Arf! Arf! Arf!"

"You've startled Pipsy!" cried the woman, squeezing the animal toward her chest. She turned a dark look toward Mr. Katon. "If Pipsy is going to be startled I won't come here again!"

The store owner waved his hands in front his face and smiled widely. "Now, now," he said quickly, "there's no need to overreact! To show you how important your business is, I'm going to have these young fellows give Pipsy one of our special spa treatments."

The dog barred his teeth and barked loudly. Goku stepped backward and into Vegeta who shoved him forward into a shelf of dog toys.

"Come on boys," Mr. Katon said nervously. "Why don't you take Mr. Pipsy into the back-"

"I am not-," began Vegeta, but before he could finish the fluffy animal was in the prince's arms, clawing at him and barking.

Goku began to follow but Mrs. Katon had run up holding a brown yapping dog that Vegeta recognized from commercials.

"His name is Mac," she said, stuffing the dog into Goku's arms. "He just needs a bath. All of the tubs are right outside in the heated shed. Just rinse, lather and rinse again. He should dry off pretty quickly, alright?"

Before Goku had the chance to inform her that he had never washed a dog in his life, she had run off in the direction she had come. So he quickly smiled at Pipsy's apprehensive looking owner and hurriedly followed behind Mr. Katon and Vegeta, whose power level had spiked.

Through the back doors once again and then through another pair that led outside, Goku expected to feel the sting of the cool winter air on his bare skin. Instead he found himself walking through a heated glass breezeway that led to a small cement building.

"What is this?" asked Vegeta, stopping in his tracks.

There were four giant washtubs and two smaller ones in the center of the room; each of them was adorned with colorful labeled bottles and candles. The walls were covered in framed pictures of cats, dogs, and other furry creatures in exaggerated poses. The lights hanging from the ceiling provided the room with rosy pink lighting.

"This is where we groom our pet clients," said Mr. Katon, walking over to a small steel tub and lighting candles with a match. "We're giving each of the dogs our special treatment. Put them inside, let them soak in the hot water, and then blow dry them. When you press the intercom button near the door, someone will come by to do their hair."

He started the water.

"You think that you can handle that? It's just a simple dog washing."

He couldn't remember all of the instructions but Goku nodded anyway, anxious to get the struggling dog in his hands into a stationary washtub.

As soon as Mr. Katon had left the room, Vegeta dropped his dog into the tub.

"Arf! Arf! Arf!"

"Vegeta, I don't think that's what you're supposed to do with-" started Goku, but a glare from Vegeta quieted him instantly.

"I'm not in the mood, Kakarot," he said.

Shrugging, Goku gently introduced Mac to the soapy water. The little dog seemed frightened of his new surroundings and began to bark loudly.

"Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!"

"Shut that mongrel up!" Vegeta shouted from across the room.

Mac began splashing around, spraying Goku with copious amounts of water. Sputtering, Goku reached back into the tub and tried to grab Mac, who was swimming from one side to the other, howling in fright.

"It's okay, boy," murmured Goku, water dripping from his eyes and blurring his vision. "It's going to be just fine!"

Goku turned to Vegeta who seemed to be having just as much trouble as he was keeping the dog still. Pipsy had begun trying to claw his way out of the tub, swiping at Vegeta's face. His barks had turned to snarls and growls.

"SHUT UP!" howled Vegeta, looking enraged. He pushed Pipsy back into the water and his elbow hit a candle, which fell over and landed on his shoot. He cursed so loudly that Goku thought his ears might start ringing soon. It certainly didn't help that that the barking was reverberating off of the walls and echoing.

Deciding not to take any cues from Vegeta on washing, Goku picked up Mack in his arms. It would probably work better if he held the dog instead, placing him in the tub only when necessary. He was starting to see why Chi-Chi had vetoed all of his requests to get a pet.

Suddenly Mac leapt up and out of his hands. His wet paws sliding across the floor, the dog had made his escape and flew past Vegeta at lightning speed.

"Come back!" Goku shouted, slipping in the small puddles that Mac was leaving behind.

"Run, Kakarot!" Vegeta shouted with a laugh.

He was circling around now and Goku, soaking wet, could barely keep his balance. Knowing his best bet was to wait for Mac to come to him, he stood like an umpire at a baseball game with his knees squatted and his hands open for a catch.

There! Mac was heading back, but the floor was too slick and the poor animal ran into a shelf. Things began tumbling quickly. Goku managed to save the dog but he couldn't stop a large rubber ball from bouncing haphazardly across the floor and into the steel tub holding the struggling Pipsy.

It happened in slow motion.

A green bottle of scented oils fell over into the tub and moments later, a burning candle followed suit. Pipsy leaped into the air, landing on Vegeta's chest as the entire wash bin went up in flames.

For a moment both Goku and Vegeta sat in silence, neither able to communicate what was happening before their very eyes.

Then, leaping up, Vegeta powered up and outstretched his hand at the soaking wet poodle.

"Vegeta!" Goku shouted from the floor, holding a shivering Mac in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"What I should have done in the first place! Blowing up this stupid mutt!"

The blast formed in the prince's hands and Goku jumped upward, determined to stop him. He launched himself at Vegeta's back and the latter stumbled backward into the tub of burning flames.

"VEGETA!"

Goku immediately reached inside of the tub, ignoring the immense heat and smoke, and pulled out a blackened and charred Vegeta.

It was at that moment that the door flew open and Mrs. Katon came running into the room. Her jaw dropped as she wildly looked around the room. Her hands covered her chest.

"Y-you are f-fired…"

Vegeta pushed Goku away and wiped ash from his forehead. "You can't fire me!" he shouted at the woman whose eyes widened at the sound of his voice. "I quit!"

He pushed her aside and nearly broke the door down in his haste to leave. Goku wanted to follow behind but he was finding it difficult to leave the scene. Mrs. Katon looked like she might be in the middle of a heart attack.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She stared at him, blinking over and over.

He guessed not.

* * *

><p>"<em>It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go."<em>

A large glittery snowman sang loudly from inside the window of an ornately dressed department store window. A small crowd had gathered near the display both inside the store and outside on the sidewalk to sing along.

"Mommy, lookie! Sing!"

When Videl didn't reply, Pan yanked her arm hard. "Mommy! SING!"

Rubbing her arm, Videl turned her head from a shelf full of decorative plates and turned to stare at the robotic snowman. It wore a black top hat and its mouth moved up and down in unison with the familiar lyrics. It didn't particularly interest her, but she didn't say so. She held Pan's hand tighter before the tot could touch it.

"If you break it you buy it," she said as Pan made an attempt to break away toward the singing snowman.

Pan stuck out her bottom lip and Videl became nervous. She may have dressed Pan in all white today, but the child was no angel.

"MOMMY I WANT-"

Videl clamped a hand over her daughter's mouth, nervously smiling at staring strangers as they walked past. Why couldn't Pan have her tantrum outside, rather than in the middle of a crowded department store?

"Look," she whispered, bending down to Pan's ear, "let's play a game. It's called 'Let's not embarrass mommy'."

The preschooler pouted. "I wanna go toy store."

"Well you'll have to behave," Videl advised, standing straight and looking at the plates again. She had been looking for a present for her mother-in-law but was finding it difficult to do. "You can't yell in the store."

"Santa!"

Videl smiled but inside, she felt that same gnawing in her stomach that she always felt at the mention of Santa Claus. She absolutely loathed the idea of that guy and she had made it clear to anyone who asked. Unfortunately she was married to one of Santa's biggest supporters and he had made it very clear that Pan was going to believe in the hooded house-intruder until she was a grown woman.

"Wow!"

Videl looked up to see what had gotten Pan so excited. Through the exit that led back into the rest of the mall, she could see the biggest, most famous toy store in all of West City. It had decorated its entrance with strings of blinking lights and holly.

To reward Pan for not throwing a tantrum, Videl led her out of the grownup retailer and toward Toy Palace. Personally she loved the store as well; at any time of the year it was packed with dolls, stuffed animals, board games and train sets. If you went far enough inside, you could stand in line for a carousel that let you ride on horses and unicorns until your heart exploded from happiness.

At Christmas time though it was even more ostentatious than usual and the throngs of customers tripled. Gingerbread houses and various types of Christmas trees had been strategically placed around the store to sell candy and colored bulbs. Fake snow littered parts of the ground and a Christmas carol played over the speakers.

What really caught Videl's attention however was the semi-ordered line of people standing inside the confines of thick velvet rope. At the end of the rope was a large sign upon which it had been written, 'Visit with Santa: Take a Photo'.

"Oh no," she muttered, wondering how she would get her daughter past the man without her seeing him. The store had a second level and if she were smart, she could get Pan distracted with something.

"Vroom! Look at me go!" Pan cried, a toy airplane in her hands.

"Let's buy it!" Videl exclaimed, dragging the girl to the first cashier she could find.

Pan seemed so thrilled that she was getting the first toy she had asked for didn't ask any questions, and Videl told her no lies.

* * *

><p>It was nearing evening and Krillin was doing everything he could to cheer up his newly fired friend, but it was useless. Not even a plate of sugar cookies could make Goku smile, and that was his only arsenal.<p>

"Look buddy," he said, joining Goku on the couch as the latter dejectedly flipped through another classifieds section. "You aren't going to get a job with this attitude."

"I can't help it," Goku stated, sounding sad. "I'm just not qualified enough for a lot of these places that are hiring."

Krillin took the paper from his hands and began to look through the ads himself. "It's just a matter of finding you a job that doesn't require any past experience." He turned the page over. "Don't worry. We'll find something in here for you. I think."

_But don't get your hopes up_, thought Krillin, mentally crossing out a lot of the offers he saw almost immediately.

"The week's almost up," Goku said, laying his head back and looking up at the ceiling. "You know what that means, right? No more dinners from Chi-Chi."

"Yeah, you'll have to eat at Bulma's," added Krillin.

Goku leaned forward and hit his head on his knees. "Oh, Kame!"

"It's okay Goku-"

"I-I don't w-wanna die, Krillin! You gotta help me!"

Patting his friend's back, Krillin could sympathize.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, something jumping out at him. "You could do this! It's for an office assistant. No prior experience required!"

Goku lifted his head, looking happier. "I don't have to know anything!"

Krillin managed not to say anything.

"This is great! You're great!"

Krillin blew on his fingernails. "Yes, yes. That's true."

"I should give them a call first thing in the morning!"

"If you get an interview dress nice," he said. "And try to comb your hair too."

"Gosh, this job sounds pretty important."

Krillin nodded. "It is for anyone trying to avoid Bulma's cooking."

* * *

><p>Bulma was in the living room watering a plant when Vegeta graced her with his presence. It was the first time she had seen him that morning and he looked as happy as he had the evening before when he had reportedly quit his job.<p>

"You found a replacement job yet?" she asked, not looking at him.

Glaring at her, Vegeta didn't reply. He sat on the sofa and turned on the television.

She put down the watering can and crossed her arms against her chest. The sunglasses sat atop the bridge of her nose. When he saw her face, he scowled but remained silent.

"I'm starting to like these glasses more and more," Bulma said to him.

That was not true, but it was the only way to motivate the Saiyan prince. So she wore them everywhere she went: the bathroom, during work, while she was sleeping, taking a bath, and watering the plants.

His look was scorching but she had never been afraid of his angry gazes.

"I'm glad you haven't found work," she said with a smirk.

"Finally come to your senses, woman?" he asked, staring at the televisions screen.

"I've found you a job is what I've done."

Pause.

"You did _what_?"

"I found you a job," she repeated, taking a seat next to him on the couch. "I have these clients who need a babysitter for their three kids. They'll only be gone for a few hours tomorrow afternoon if you're interested."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not watching three brats for measly pay."

"They actually pay very well," Bulma said. "And besides, I already told them you'd be there."

She stood up with a smile and pushed the glasses back further on her face. "Now I've got some plants that need watering."

When she didn't get argument, she was surprised. Vegeta was really taking the job hunt seriously, and it was kind of adorable.

* * *

><p>"I saw him."<p>

Gohan looked at his wife across from the dinner table, noodles hanging from his mouth. "Saw who, exactly?"

Videl, whose plate of teriyaki noodles was untouched, was wide-eyed. "You know who I saw, Gohan."

He groaned, knowing his food would be cold before he had the chance to finish them. "You have got to be kidding me."

There was silence for a moment. Gohan considered scarfing it down as quickly as possible, but he was still uncomfortable being a total pig around his wife, whose angry voice could rival his mother's. Maybe if he pretended to be ill he could take his plate into the other room, lock the door, and eat in peace.

"Gohan. This is important."

"I don't want to hear it," he said with what he hoped were pleading eyes. "Please. I beg of you, Videl. No more."

Of course, when had a man's pleading with a woman ever worked? It certainly never had in his own family.

"He was inside of the mall on a throne," his wife said in a loud whisper, as though their sleeping daughter might awaken from the next room at the sound of the cursed named. "People were lined up all through the aisles just to catch a glimpse of him."

"That's the point," said Gohan, removing his glasses and setting them next to his plate. He could feel a headache coming on. "It's how they attract customers."

"The last thing Toy Palace needs is more customers," she argued, putting her elbow on the table and holding her chin up. "It's ridiculous how much pandering they do to the believers out there."

"You mean the children?"

She ignored him. "I had to buy her a toy just to get her out of there without causing a scene. She had already went crazy over a talking snowman."

Gohan perked up immediately. "Is that the one that sings all of those Christmas songs in the store window? The one with the hat?"

Videl arched her eyebrow. "Yeah, that'd be the one. Why?"

"No reason," he said, returning to his meal.

"_Anyway_," she said pointedly, "I wanted to know what you thought we should do about this whole thing. Pan's old enough to care about S-Santa now. It's harder to shield her from him when he's plastered on every billboard offering toys."

Gohan rolled his eyes. "You ever thought of letting her enjoy the season?"

She gasped and scooted back from the table.

"It's like I don't even know you anymore!"

"You know I like Santa."

"Yes, but to the extent that you'd put our child in harm's way?"

If Gohan told his wife that there was nothing terrible about Santa, he'd only be repeating something he had told her a million times already. He shoveled in more food; he might be able to finish if she didn't ask him for his opinion on anything else.

"He was outside of the mall too, Gohan."

"Wuwwy?" He had meant to say 'really' but his mouth was stuffed with teriyaki chicken and spicy noodles.

She nodded. "He was ringing a bell and everything and asking people for donations."

Gohan swallowed. "So?"

"Well, I couldn't say no to charity so…" Videl looked sheepish as she looked away from his eyes. "I might have made Pan do it."

Gohan paused in his eating. "You made our four-year-old give money to a stranger in a Santa suit?"

"I watched her do it!" Videl cried, looking more ashamed than ever. "I wanted to do it myself but I just couldn't! I tried but I couldn't!"

He was beyond disbelief, having in all conscience believed that at some point in their marriage, Videl would overcome her fear. "I have never," he said to her, "met anyone besides you who was afraid of Santa Claus."

"I'm not afraid of him!" exclaimed Videl, running her hands through her hair and pulling. "I'm just… I'm cautious of him, that's all!"

"I know you had a bad experience as a kid, okay? But don't ruin it for Pan. For her, Santa's part of the magic!"

Videl placed both of her palms flat on the table and stood up from her seat. "Magic? Hah! How can you take his side over mine? He spreads lies to all of those innocent children! He promises them things they can't have!"

"He represents Christmas cheer."

"He is the evil embodiment of commercialism!"

Gohan nearly choked on his food. "He's the what?"

Videl left the table and began pacing around the kitchen with a hand under her chin as though she were thinking very hard about something.

"Santa is the direct representation of economic waste manifested as excessive spending and overpriced, crappy toys. It's corruption at its very worst. How can you sit there in your comfy, little chair and support that? We're as bad as he is!"

"Have you been watching Fox News again, dear?" asked Gohan, beginning to worry.

She glared at him. "Don't patronize me."

Gohan put up his hands in defeat. There was no use trying to talk her out of her anti-Santa tirade. He got up from the table and grabbed her wrists. Very gently, he guided her to his chest.

"I love you very much," he said, kissing her. "But you're crazy."

* * *

><p>It had been a peaceful day for the most part. Android 18 had spent most of it training outdoors and enjoying nature. Lately her house had become a zoo what with Goku over all of the time. Now she was curled up in a chair, wearing comfortable gray pants and an oversized hoodie. Her naked toes were outstretched on the coffee table in front of her as she painted her nails black.<p>

Across the room, sitting next to Master Roshi, was her husband. He was demonstrating something that had apparently caused him great amusement. All 18 knew though, was that his voice was blocking the sound of the television.

"So, then I told him to work as an office assistant!" He laughed loudly. "Goku's the best, but boy I can't wait to see how this one turns out!"

"Neither can I," 18 said absently, not having heard any of the conversation.

"Goku's got a few screws loose," Master Roshi said, his bald head shining in the sunlight, "but he's a good kid. Who knows? He might be decent at this job. As I recall, he was a better student than you were."

Krillin gave a loud 'hmph'.

"And he got his own house too," Master Roshi continued. "You could learn a thing or two from him, you know."

"Gee, thanks," Krillin answered, standing up and stretching his arms. "Vegeta's got to find a job too. Man, their wives sure are insane."

"You don't have to tell me that!" Master Roshi agreed. "The only question is which one is crazier!"

"Well, Chi-Chi and Bulma might _think_ that they're teaching Goku and Vegeta a lesson, but let's face it. Those guys couldn't keep a job if it was tied to their faces." Krillin winked at 18. "Isn't that right, babe?"

"Uh-huh."

Perhaps she should have gone with a brighter color. Most of her clothes were brightly colored, not dark. She could start over, she supposed. Maybe find a bottle of blue polish instead.

"I'm sure glad you aren't like that, babe!"

18 looked up to see Krillin in front of her wearing an obnoxious grin. If he called her that name one more time…

"You know what? It's not too hard to find a job nowadays. Everyone's looking for someone to work for the holidays." Krillin scratched his head. "Gotta look in the right places. What do you think, babe?"

That was it.

18 arose from the couch, trying not to ruin her newly coated nails. She towered over her husband, who seemed surprised by her sudden movements.

"Look. My name is 18."

He swallowed.

"It shouldn't be very hard to remember," she said gruffly, "considering that you can at least count up to twenty."

He smiled nervously. "Sorry, 18! Guess I got carried away."

She returned to her chair and picked up the black polish. "I think you're hanging out with Goku too much. You're beginning to sound just like him."

"That's true!" Master Roshi piped in from across the room.

"We're best friends and everything," said Krillin. "I don't think we sound anything alike though, to be honest. I've always thought that my voice was a little… deeper. More manly?"

18 rolled her eyes.

"If you and Goku are such great friends, why don't you stick together? Find a job."

The former android looked up from her paint job in time to see Master Roshi and her husband exchanging puzzled glances.

"But we've got plenty of money, don't you remember the tournament? We won all that prize money and-"

"-No, _I_ won that prize money," she corrected him. "And I had to make a fool of myself on television to do it. I think you should get a job."

She paused.

"Or I'll take Marron and leave you here with the old man."

Krillin shrugged and said nonchalantly, "Fine with me. Move along like the wind, 18. But heed my manly spoken words, you'll come running back."

18 raised a blond eyebrow. "And just who will cook and clean for you?"

Her husband looked confused. "The same person who always has. Master Roshi."

He had a point.

"I suppose he can keep you warm at night as well," she said, using her icy blue eyes to send a seductive message. "Isn't that right, Master Roshi?"

The old man turned around and gave a toothy smile. "I can do better than that. You know it!"

Krillin shuddered, his jaw going slack. "I am… I am in disbelief at how far you would go."

He paused.

"Well played, my dear. Well played."


	3. Never Gonna Get It

**A/N:** It's almost Christmas! I'll be packing up soon and leaving home for a week or two. The very last chapter will be available on Christmas, but others might come before then if I can find wifi out in nowhereland. Also, given the quantity of 'voices' in this story, I'd like to present what I like to call 'fast-pace perspective'.

**DISCLAIMER**_**:**_ I have acquired the rights to various television shows and animated cartoons including Pokémon and the Real Housewives of Atlanta.

* * *

><p>Hell had converted itself into a suburban neighborhood with white picket fences and rows of minivans along paved driveways. The devil himself had taken residence in a sturdy yellow brick house surrounded by vibrant flowerbeds.<p>

Vegeta paused at the front door and took a long, hard sniff.

He could sense evil.

Before he could send a blast through a window to get their attention, the door opened up , revealing a blond woman with bright blue eyes wearing an equally bright blue skirt suit.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully, her smile spread from ear to ear. "You must be Vegeta, of course! Why don't you come on in?"

As she led him into the house and into the front room, Vegeta kept an ear and eye out for the brats. They hadn't come out of hiding yet.

"I'm Sam Caliber and this is my husband, Dennis," said the woman introducing a tall man wearing a button down and khaki's.

Dennis reached out for a handshake and a moment later he pulled back, his hand red.

"What a grip!" he exclaimed. "Alright Sam, let's get going. Kids! Mom and dad are leaving now! Come greet the sitter!"

The word did not fare well for the prince but he didn't interject. Instead he turned his eyes toward a white, carpeted staircase toward the end of the hall. Three children of varying sizes but all with the same blond hair and blue eyes were walking steadily down the steps with smiles plastered on their faces.

"I'd like you to meet Patrick," Dennis said as the tallest boy stood at his side. "He's ten. This is Charlotte, she's five. And here's our little angel Lee. He just turned three a few days ago."

"It was my birfday!" Lee cried excitedly.

Vegeta grunted.

"If you need anything dear, our numbers are on the refrigerator," Sam said with a smile. "Tell Bulma we said hello and thanks!"

When the Calibers had gotten into their tiny car and zipped down the lane, Vegeta sighed and turned to his charges who were staring at him expressionless.

"We've never had a man babysitter before," Charlotte remarked, swinging her pigtails from side to side.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do now that they were alone. He couldn't train with them in a gravity room like he did with his own brats. Also, having been a father for a decent amount of time, he sure as hell wasn't going to ask them what they wanted to do.

Patrick stepped in front of his siblings and smiled in a way that was reminiscent of Vegeta himself.

"We," he said sinisterly, "are going to have so much fun."

* * *

><p>Chi-Chi could hear bumps and thuds coming from her room. Abandoning her gingerbread house in the kitchen, she rushed inside to see her husband, his face ghostly white as he struggled to unwrap a tie from around his neck.<p>

"My goodness!" she exclaimed and in one instant she had yanked the tie off over his head and threw it behind him onto the bed. "Goku!"

He was panting hard, doubled over with his hands on his knees. "Chi-Chi… I d-don't want to wear a tie!"

"Well you weren't exactly trying to wear it," she answered, her heart still pounding from the event that just occurred. "Here, hand it to me. And try not to strangle yourself with it," she added.

Looking very reluctant to do so, Goku reached behind him, grabbed the tie and handed it to his wife. In a moment, the blue tie was tucked neatly underneath his white collared shirt. She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"You look so handsome!" she cooed, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks.

Goku blushed. "I don't know babe, this isn't really me."

In an instant Chi-Chi felt her face turn hot with anger. She pointed an index finger directly in her husband's face.

"This is going to be you today and you're gonna like it!" she exclaimed. "You had better get that job, Goku! Remember everything that I've told you."

"Right," agreed her husband. "I think I can do that."

Goku pecked her cheek and left the room, but Chi-Chi was too lost in thought to follow him. She could only think about how she had woken up early to help him get dressed. They had spent the better half of the early morning locating socks and drying a shirt he had placed in the dishwasher.

Life with Goku was like an episode of Survivor.

Chi-Chi shut her bedroom door and reentered the kitchen at the same time as her youngest son, Goten. He had obviously been roused awake by the aromatic smells of sugar and gingerbread.

"Dad, you look cool!" he exclaimed, sticking his finger in the white icing that adorned the side of the partially decorated candy house. "Are you going to my school again?"

"Absolutely not," Chi-Chi said, swatting Goten's hand away. "He's going to work as an office assistant today at a big corporation."

Yawning, Goten took a seat and stared at chocolate candies scattered on the table. "Good luck dad."

"I'm going to need it," said Goku.

That was something Chi-Chi didn't doubt for a single second.

* * *

><p><em>I'll get you fat man<em>.

Videl finished buttoning her peacoat and placed an unsteady hand on the front doorknob. She was ready to face the world and face fraud, even without the support of her so-called husband.

_Traitor._

"Let's go girls," she said, gritting her teeth and staring determinedly in front of her.

Pan and Bulma's daughter, Bra, grabbed onto her coat.

"Videl."

She cocked her head slightly and cut her eyes at Gohan, who stood behind her, crossing his arms. He was on his way to work. She could tell because he was wearing his tailored pants, high collared white shirt and shiny black shoes. He was carrying a briefcase and wearing his glasses without prescriptions.

He was sexy.

A sexy traitor.

"What do you want?" she asked edgily.

"Whatever you're planning, just forget about it. Let the girls have fun today without all the crazy."

Videl opened the door and a cold blast of air flew throughout the corridor.

"We shall see," the woman answered.

"Bye, Gohan!" shouted Bra, running ahead to the car. Her blue hair fluttered carelessly behind her.

"Bye, traitor!" Pan cried cheerfully and she let go of her mother's hand and ran outside.

Videl laughed nervously and began creeping out of the door, trying to ignore Gohan's open mouthed gawking.

"We'll be leaving now!"

* * *

><p>Krillin eyed the clock for the millionth time that afternoon. He wanted to make sure that he was up to his ears in the classifieds when his dear wife came home. 18 had taken Marron and a friend out for lunch. Krillin had been watching soaps and eating crackers.<p>

When he heard his daughter's voice from far away, Krillin instantly threw the remote and grabbed the classifieds, trying hard to appear tired and wary.

"Dad!"

His twelve-year-old daughter entered the house looking enthusiastic. Her blue eyes were shining as she plopped next to him on the sofa. Suddenly she sniffed the air.

"Did you take a bath today dad?" Marron asked, wrinkling her nose. "Mom's right, maybe you do need a job. It might encourage you to take a shower!"

She started laughing and Krillin tried to ignore her. Marron thought she was a riot these days.

"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up. See if you'll get a Christmas present from me this year," he said.

"I'm interested in your answer," 18 said, coming in the door with her hands full of brown paper bags. "Marron, sweetheart, come help me put away these groceries."

Krillin turned around and grinned at his wife. "How was lunch my darling?"

"Edible," she answered, walking to where he was sitting and looking over his shoulder at the crinkled newspaper. "I take it you're still unemployed."

"I'm looking," Krillin said moodily. "I haven't found anything yet."

Master Roshi entered the room, using his cane to prod along Turtle, a giant brown sea turtle whose enormous body was blocking the backdoor. The old man wore blue board shorts and was shirtless.

"She's got you looking for a job there, huh?" he asked when 18 had disappeared into another room.

"No. I always read the classifieds at two in the afternoon," answered Krillin sarcastically.

"Be huffy then!" the Turtle Hermit cried, sticking out his belly and purposefully shimmying until it jiggled. "But don't look at me when you need help. I should charge you rent you know!"

Krillin looked away in disgust. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I kid you not. You've been staying here for all your life just about. Don't I get something?"

"Yeah," replied Krillin. "Out of my way. You're blocking the light."

* * *

><p>Vegeta had heard Patrick, but he didn't quite understand.<p>

"What are you talking about?"

Patrick curled his upper lip the way that Vegeta usually did.

"Don't look so surprised, Veggie. Fun isn't a new concept."

Vegeta growled. "My name is Vegeta and if you desire to make it to middle school, I suggest you don't mispronounce it again."

Patrick laughed. "Yeah, sure thing. _Veggie_."

His brother and sister began to laugh as well. Vegeta reached forward and grabbed the ringleader by the scruff of his neck and lifted him into the air.

"_You heard me_."

For a moment there was complete silence. Then, Patrick spoke.

"If you touch me, I'll call the police."

"I'm not afraid of the police," Vegeta said with narrowed eyes.

"I know the number!" shouted Charlotte, sounding quite proud of herself. "It's 9-9-1!"

"9-1-1," corrected Lee, sucking his thumb.

Vegeta stared intently at Patrick, dark eyes boring into light ones. It was true, he wasn't afraid of the police. But that woman would find out what he had done – she'd probably hear about it on the news- and he'd never hear the end of it. Carefully, he set the child onto the ground once more.

He took a few steps backward, which Vegeta took as a good sign, and stood close to his sister.

"I want to play outside," he said. He seemed to dare Vegeta to disagree with him, but the prince had no objections to leaving the child to his own devices. "I say we play hide-and-seek."

"Fine," said Vegeta, walking to the front door and opening it.

"Hey!" cried Charlotte, running up behind him and grabbing onto his leg. "You have to play with us! You're the counter!"

He loathed counting. When he was forced to play this stupid game with his daughter, she always made him count to some ridiculously high number.

The three children led him into the spacious house and out into the backyard. There were plenty of oak trees with birds chirping on their branches. The sun was shining brightly through the cold and the three so-called angels were standing in front of him looking impatient.

"Close your eyes," commanded Patrick. "Count to thirty and we'll go hide. Then you have to find us-"

"-I know what to do!" shouted Vegeta irritably. "Now go!"

He slammed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead against the brick siding of the house. He knew full well that catching the brats would be an easy task. For one thing, despite their low power levels, he could sense them if he concentrated hard enough. Second, they were loud and obviously amateur hide-and-seekers.

"Thirty," he mumbled aloud after he supposed the right amount of time had passed.

Vegeta looked around, straining his ears for any sound that would indicate a child's presence. A remarkable transformation had occurred right under his nose. They were so quiet that he could not hear them and because he was too lazy to try, he could not sense them either.

He peered into large bushes near the house and shrugged. He hadn't actually intended to play the game (he had more or less anticipated going back inside to get something to eat), but he realized that he couldn't leave the children unattended. They were trouble enough with an adult watching them.

Moving away from the bushes, Vegeta looked under a slide and beside a child-sized jeep.

No kids.

He knew they weren't inside the house because he hadn't heard any windows or doors opening or closing. So the demons were lurking outside.

Vegeta made his way through the trees and tall grass. A squirrel startled him.

Still, no kids.

He looked behind the flowerbed, in the garage, and from pure boredom, down a large drainpipe.

Nothing. Either he had died and gone to heaven, or those brats were up to something.

Suddenly, something hit him hard in the back of his head. He whipped around in time to see an acorn come flying towards him once again.

"What in the…" he started, but he was stopped as he was suddenly pelted with dozens of acorns.

It became a training session as he was forced to duck and dodge the acorn assault. He ran into the clearing, trying to discover how the Calibers were able to throw with such accuracy and with such a great supply of arsenal.

"ATTACK!"

In a high branch of an oak tree Vegeta could see the tiniest boy, clumsily straddling a high tree branch. Unfortunately, he didn't see that the other two children had arms full of acorns. At least twenty dropped squarely on his face.

"Get down from there immediately!" Vegeta shouted angrily, allowing several more acorns to fall on his head.

A moment later there was a bloodcurdling scream. Lee had fallen from the tree.

Vegeta caught the falling babe in his arms right before he hit the ground and on purpose. While the boy cried incessantly in his arms, Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It was time to call in the reinforcements.

* * *

><p>Goku studied the squiggly lines on the screen. They moved and appeared to be colorful worms. They connected with each other and formed various shapes. He had absolutely no idea what he was looking at.<p>

"That's the screensaver."

The woman who had spoken to him moved something she had called a 'mouse' earlier and the confusing picture disappeared, revealing a boring blue screen with several folders.

She laughed as she took a seat next to him.

"I guess this job can get pretty tedious," she said. "Anyway, how do you feel about faxing some papers for the boss? They're supposed to be at headquarters by the end of the day but I've got to warn you, there's a lot of work involved. Can you handle that?"

"Sure!" Goku said with a smile. "Let's have at it!"

The smiling woman handed him a thick folder filled to the brim with documents.

"Do you know how to use the fax machine?" she asked.

When he shook his head, she gestured for him to get up from his chair.

"Well, come with me and I'll give you the run down. It's really easy," she said as the two of them walked past cubicles and other people in ties and suits.

They stopped in front of two large white machines. There were so many green and blue buttons that Goku wasn't sure how he was ever going to learn how to use either one of them. He had seen spaceships with fewer controls.

"Now all you do is place the paper here," demonstrated the woman, "and close the lid. Then press these buttons… enter the phone number listed _here_ and press this! See, all set!"

Something was happening to the paper but Goku wasn't quite sure what. He didn't want to disappoint Chi-Chi so he smiled and nodded.

"I've got it, thanks!"

When she walked away, Goku looked for a way to insert the paper into the machine like the woman had. She had been standing in front of him so he hadn't been able to see very well. There was a slot in front of the machine that looked like it might do something. A tube ran from the machine and into a square container on the floor.

He fed the paper into the equipment and heard a loud buzz. It was odd really; he hadn't had to press any numbers to fax the papers. Goku beamed, feeling proud for having found a more efficient way to send off the faxes. He'd probably get promoted.

Goku fed another paper through, then another and another. Twenty minutes passed and half of the papers had been faxed. He was growing bored and he yawned.

"Hey! How's everything going over- what have you done!"

The smiling woman from earlier had become a screaming monster. She snatched the folder from Goku's hands and screamed.

"You idiot!" she shouted. "You've been shredding the files!"

Goku scratched his head. "I'm sorry, what?"

She kicked the square container that connected to the tube. "This is the paper shredder! This is the exact opposite of what you were supposed to do!"

He didn't quite understand what was going on and neither did the people who had gathered around to stare at the unfolding scene.

"You're fired!" she shouted.

But they _all_ understood that.

* * *

><p>"Miss Videl, I can't hold all of this!"<p>

Videl turned away from the register where she had just purchased a copious amount of Christmas gifts. Behind her Bra was carrying four giant Barbie cases stacked on top of one another. She couldn't even see the tiny girls' head.

"Be careful!" she exclaimed, taking two and tucking them under her arm. "Go put those away. I've already got what I need from here."

"But… but I don't want to!" whined Bra, her bright blue eyes watering. "I want them all!"

Having spent a lot of time with the smallest Brief, Videl knew she wasn't going to cry and that she was only trying to have her way.

"You know, that's not gonna work on me."

"But it works on daddy!" she said with a pout, her tears already dried. She let Videl stack the other two cases on top of the ones in her hand and walked off to a store boy where she handed them over.

"Mommy, I ride the train now?"

Videl thanked the cashier and grabbed her bags and Pan's outstretched hand. If she meant the train that rode around the toy store's Santa Claus exhibit, she had another thing coming.

"No."

"Why?" asked Pan, her eyes filling with tears.

Videl knew those were real. Pan didn't have the patience to fake cry. Also she hated to see her daughter cry. Instantly she melted.

"I'm going to show you the carousel first silly, that's why," she answered, walking out of the store with Pan and Bra holding both of her hands. She had slipped the bags upon her shoulders like they were purses.

Videl led the girls into the center of the mall. There was a pretty carousel in Toy Palace, but the one on the first floor of the mall was three times larger and seated at least a hundred more people. The line was already stretched around a good deal but the turnover time was rapid because of the seat quantity. The seats ranged from cushioned benches to exotic jungle animals and fish.

Bra and Pan began chatting merrily with one another about which animals they were going to ride on and Videl lost herself among the loud talking and murmuring of the people around her. The carousel was playing a popular Christmas song and she began singing along.

And then it hit her.

Instead of trying to entertain herself while she waited for the line to shorten, Videl began to feel a tingling sensation run throughout her body. It was the same sensation she felt every time she found herself within large crowds of people in the month of December.

_I could get the message across right here_.

"Don't you dare," she said to herself, trying to gain control.

_Every kid here would know what Christmas was really about. They'd know the lies. _

That stupid, nagging little voice persisted and Videl bit her cheeks to stop her mouth from opening. She'd disappoint all of those children and Bulma would come after her if Bra ever told her who had ruined her innocence.

_You can take these weaklings! Your father is the Champion of the World!_

That much was true. Her new job was working with the police to apprehend criminals and she was doing a great job so far. She had already taken in two men for burglary. She could handle the tiny fists of children.

Videl sighed and looked ahead. Maybe Gohan was right, maybe she was crazy. Besides, these kids had parents and they wouldn't take lightly to her outburst.

"I can take them," she said.

* * *

><p>It was much later that night when Gohan was standing in the middle of Bulma's lab, inspecting his whereabouts. There was a long wooden desk with three silver desktop computers and three rolling chairs. In his hands he carried his energetic daughter who had just gotten home from the mall and a cellphone where his wife was very adamant about their energetic daughter.<p>

"Yes, I promise," he said in response to her. "Videl, yes. Okay. They're here already…. They're _looking at me_."

The 'they're' he was referring to was his glum father, his glummer friend Krillin, and an apathetic looking Vegeta. He was going to teach them how to use the internet and he wasn't exactly looking forward to that. He wanted to get started as soon as he could but Videl was making that very difficult.

"You can't let her touch the computers, alright?" she was saying. "I don't want to pay for new computers."

"I won't let her touch anything. Please go to sleep."

She sighed. "I love you."

"I love you too, honey bear," he said as quietly as possible so that no one would hear the nickname he had made up for his high school sweetheart.

"I'll see you later," she said and hung up.

Gohan turned around and saw three pairs of eyes staring at him.

"_Honey bear_?" asked Krillin with an exaggerated eyebrow arch. He burst into laughter.

Gohan blushed. "Look, do you guys want to get on the internet or not?"

"Or not," answered Vegeta, looking sour.

Apparently Vegeta had experienced a horrible babysitting outing and wanted nothing to do with any form of life.

Gohan valued his life far too much to ask just what had happened. Vegeta looked as though he was going to strangle the next thing that asked him a question. He took a deep breath.

"Alright men, let's start up the computer."

"Why is mine cutting on and off?" complained Goku, looking puzzled.

"Dad, stop pressing that button."

"Oh."

Gohan adjusted Pan in his arms and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was falling asleep. Lucky girl.

"When the computer turns on, it'll ask for a log-in name and password. Just choose guest."

Looking around, Gohan could see that Vegeta already knew what to do. The older Saiyan looked bored as he stared at his screen which displayed a magnificent outer space scene.

"Guys, make your computers look like Vegeta's."

This was easier said than done. Krillin was waiting for a disk check and Goku had accidentally restarted his computer. It took another five minutes before everyone was where he wanted them to be.

"Now, let's look at the bottom bar on the screen and click on the multi-colored ball. It's yellow, green and red."

"Is it this?" asked Goku, pointing his mouse at a blue icon with a musical note in the center.

"Does that look _anything like_… no, no that's not it," Gohan said.

He reached over and pressed it for him.

"I want to press a button, daddy," Pan said sleepily. "Can I press one?"

"Not right now sweetie pie," he answered, walking around to make sure that everyone had followed his instructions.

Pouting, Pan wriggled out of his arms and onto the floor. Wearing only a long t-shirt and socks, she shuffled over to Vegeta who had his internet browser open and was staring at the screen, as if daring it to disobey him.

"Uncle 'Geta, I help."

Instead of giving him a chance to answer, she jumped onto his lap and started pressing buttons on his keyboard.

"Pan get down from him!" exclaimed Gohan, but she clung hard to Vegeta's shirt. "Come on. You know better than that."

"Oh, let her stay," said Krillin. "It's kind of cute."

"Will you just give me the damn job site already?" demanded Vegeta as Pan climbed onto his head.

"It's monster dot com."

"Is that with two q's or one?" asked Goku.

"I'll uh, I'll write it down, dad," Gohan answered.

He turned around and began printing the letters on a board behind the computers. Goku stood up to get a better look and pushed back his chair. Immediately every computer turned black. Looking down, Gohan could see that his father had accidentally tripped over the wall extension cord.

"DAMMIT!" shouted Vegeta, his face red.

"Mommy says that," Pan said knowledgeably, putting Vegeta's face between her palms. "It's not very nice."

"Calm down, Vegeta," said Goku, waving his hands. "It's was an accident!"

"NO! YOUR _BIRTH_ WAS AN ACCIDENT!"

Gohan contemplated smashing his skull into a computer screen.

* * *

><p>Smelling his dinner cooking, Vegeta left the sanctuary of his bedroom and went into the kitchen. After Kakarot's stunt, he had gone upstairs to lock himself in his room until everyone had left. What a waste of time.<p>

The woman was standing at the counter holding a glass of wine and wearing his sunglasses.

Of course.

He poured himself a large bowl of soup and sat at the table. If he ate fast he might not have to acknowledge her presence.

"So, did Gohan show you how to use the computer correctly?" asked his wife with a bright smile.

"I already knew how to use that blasted machine, woman," he said to her, not looking up from his dinner. "I don't need help from any of Kakarot's spawn, even if that particular one tends to be the more intelligible one."

Bulma sighed and ruffled his hair as she walked past. "Oh, Vegeta. What am I going to do with you?"

"Leave me alone so I can finish eating."

She laughed and sat next to him instead. "Gosh, the same wish after all these years."

He shook his head and took a long gulp of soup. If she wanted something from him she had better spit it out before he locked himself away from civilization again.

"I want to know how your babysitting job went today."

"It was fine."

She opened her mouth then closed it, then reopened it.

"Trunks said you called him to help."

Vegeta felt his cheeks get hot and it had nothing to do with the soup.

"I might have," he replied.

"He said they were evil."

Realizing he couldn't eat unless he talked to her, Vegeta said, "They were demonic."

The woman removed the sunglasses and chuckled. "Come on, Vegeta. They couldn't have been that bad."

"They hid from me, three acorns at my head, took a hose from the house and made the kitchen into a swimming pool, called three different countries, ordered pizzas and one of them got locked in the bathroom."

Bulma's eyes flew open and she grabbed his wrist. "You can't be serious! I've looked after them before and they were absolute angels!"

Vegeta glared. "Not these brats. And the one who got locked in the bathroom… I kept him there for an hour."

The woman's jaw dropped.

"Don't worry yourself," Vegeta said with a smirk. "He was asleep in the bathtub. And when I cut the water on he woke right up."

She looked disbelieving. "Where did Trunks come in?"

"Somewhere around the house and the three-dollar-a-minute phone call to the Philippines."

"And did he help?"

"_Your_ son," said Vegeta, wanting to emphasize her ownership in the matter, "was tied to a chair only five minutes after he arrived."

She began to laugh. "I guess that means you won't want to sit for them again tomorrow."

His blank stare must have tipped her off, because she stopped laughing.

"I'll cancel for you." She paused. "Of course, that means you're going to have to find somewhere else to work."

Vegeta scowled into his half-eaten soup.

* * *

><p>"I've got it!"<p>

Goku was ecstatic. He had gotten an email back from the job website already.

"Whatever it is," said Vegeta beside him in Bulma's lab again, "I hope it's not catching."

He laughed at his own joke and Goku didn't mind joining him, mostly because he was so excited.

"I've got three offers already! The internet sure works fast." He turned to his best friend. "Have you found anything, Krillin?"

"I sure have!" Krillin pointed to his computer screen and asked, "Did you guys know there's a grocery store on the corner that has two positions open for stock boys? It pays minimum wage but that's not too bad considering!"

"I got the same thing," Goku said. "We might be able to do that together. Except I don't think that'll work. There are three of us. Let's see if we can find something else."

He saw Vegeta grit his teeth and realized the prince was trying to find a way to say something.

"Kakarot," he said in a low voice, "I don't need to work with you. Believe it or not, I prefer working alone."

"Your loss Vegeta," Goku said cheerfully. "What did you find?"

Vegeta's smirk unnerved him. "That's none of your concern."

"Well, is it something you're good at?"

"Yes," was the short answer.

"Like eating?"

"No."

"Training?"

"No."

"Flying?"

"_No_."

"Calling people names?"

"_NO_."

"Yelling at me?"

"NO!"

Goku shrugged and turned back to Krillin. "Did you send a reply back yet?"

"Done!" answered his friend. "We might get lucky and have a job by tomorrow morning!"

* * *

><p>Krillin hadn't been in any hurry to tell 18 he had found a prospective job. What if he didn't get it? Or worse, what if he did?<p>

"Dad, if you get hired can you bring home free stuff from the store?"

Yes, he had confided in his preteen daughter.

"I don't think it works like that," he said, picking up his phone to call Goku and act as his personal alarm clock.

"Dad, help!" screamed Marron as someone suddenly appeared in the middle of the living room.

"Goku!" admonished Krillin who had run to his daughter's side. "How many times have I asked you not to burst in people's houses without calling first?"

Goku grinned. "Sorry about that. Want me to try again?"

"Stop kidding around," Krillin said. "Now let's get out of here!"

"Bye, Marron!" Goku called out, opening the front door and letting in a cool ocean breeze.

"Bye Goku, bye dad!" said Marron and she leaned over and kissed the latter on the cheek. "I hope you get the job because mom'll be mad if you don't. If you don't get it, don't bother coming back okay?"

"Thanks for being so positive."

Her blue eyes sparkled like water. "I'll leave you some leftovers on the front porch. But you'll have to get to them before the turtle does."

She closed the door in his startled face.

* * *

><p>Even though he had been asked several more times what job he had found, Vegeta hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. He had barely spoke of it to himself.<p>

That was just how good he was.

Early in the morning he rose from bed and walked into the large closet connected to his room. He sifted through dozens of baggy pants and tank tops before he found what he was looking for. There, in the very back, was a pair of black dress pants. He had also placed a stolen lab coat behind a shoe rack and he put that on over a t-shirt.

"What an absurd outfit," he grumbled, slipping into a pair of black loafers.

It had to be done though. How else would he fit in with all of the other Capsule Corp employees? S

He opened his bedroom door and treaded confidently down the hall and down the stairs. He reached an elevator that moved sideways to the other half of the building where the Capsule Corp headquarters was located.

He pressed a few passcodes to open the elevator door and as the glass doors slid open, found himself staring at his mate's place of business. Having been here only several times during his entire stay on Earth, was instantly amazed. There were levels upon levels both above and below him. The workers were as noisy as the machines they were working on. He could see hundreds of them if he looked up. Every single employee wore a blue and gray uniform with a Capsule Corp logo and a small nametag.

"May I help you, sir?" asked a young man with a baseball cap sitting sideways on his head. He was giving Vegeta a strange look. "Are you looking for level three? We're still remodeling it but I'll show you a new entrance."

"Fine."

The worker led him to a shiny, metallic elevator and pressed several buttons.

"We've gotten a lot of you guys down here lately since all this work has started," he said. "Have a good day sir!"

When the elevator doors opened, three men in white lab coats walked out. They looked him up and down and then smiled, nodding.

Vegeta didn't need three geezers smiling at him to know that his lab coat was his ticket in this place. He had received at least five more nods of approval before he had reached Bulma's office. He was impressed by the level of efficiency involved in the installing of the elevators. Five stopped directly at a pair of double doors which led to a hallway which _then_ stopped in front of her office. There was a great deal of privacy here and security cameras surrounded almost every inch of the ceiling and floor.

Which explained why the woman was not surprised to see him.

Vegeta bypassed her secretary who instantly recognized him and entered into Bulma's office to her unwelcoming scowl.

She was standing behind her brown maple desk where her name had been engraved on a fancy looking nameplate.

"What did you do to the Gravity Room now?" she asked.

Vegeta cleared his throat, having mentally prepared a speech.

"I own half of this property. So I've hired myself as an employee."

He worked hard to cover his laugh when her jaw dropped.

"This is my father's business and you cannot just come in here and hire yourself!"

"You said to get a job and I've chosen a job. If you don't like it then hand over the sunglasses and admit defeat, woman."

"Vegeta."

"Woman."

She looked torn, but Vegeta wasn't worried. When faced with the possibility that he would ruin her company, over the much easier decision of simply handing over the glasses, he was sure she would choose wisely.

"Fine, get to work."

"Wh-what?" he faltered.

"I said," the woman told him with her own smirk, "that you can work here. Now take off that lab coat. You haven't earned it yet."

"B-but..."

Blasted woman! This wasn't supposed to happen!

"You don't know what you're doing," started Vegeta, but she interrupted him.

"Believe me, I know precisely what I'm doing."

Bulma placed both hands flat on her desk and leaned forward, inches from his face. She had a hard, cold look in her eyes that Vegeta typically appreciated.

"I've wanted a receptionist. You can take all of my calls today and tell people where to sit when they wish to speak with me. Is that clear?"

"You have a secretary for that nonsense!"

"She's about to get the day off. If this is too hard for you, you can walk away and we'll forget this ugly, little incident."

She was practically daring him to agree, so he did.

"I'll be your receptionist, woman," said Vegeta, leaning closer so that his nose touched hers. She didn't back down from his menacing stare. "I win."


End file.
